The Best of Intentions
by Jaina Solo1
Summary: Jaina/Jag fic, but I wrote it before Dark Journey came out, and I wrote it guessing what might happen in DJ (so it doesn't go along exactly with the story). Jaina meets up with Jag for the first time in two years...


Pairing: Jaina/Jag  
  
Rating: PG-13—I was going to write more, but Dark Journey came out, and this doesn't go along exactly with the events in there… If you guys want me to write more, I'll try and work with it and fit it somewhere in DJ. What rating should I bump it up to? Add PWP? Review and tell me—I love any response!  
  
Disclaimer: All things Star Wars belong to the Flannel One; I only get my jollies out of them.  
  
  
  
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Jaina Solo flopped down on the nearest divan in her tiny but finely furnished quarters. It had been so long since she had gotten a decent amount of sleep, and though there was much to explore on Hapes, all she wished to explore right now was a bed.  
  
She pulled off her heavy Jedi robe, then wearily leaned down to take off her boots. She was interrupted by a chiming noise, which took her a moment to recognize as the comm unit. She groaned, stood up to find the unit and hit the door mechanism. The doorway was empty, but she noticed a silhouette against the back wall of the hallway. She grimaced, not in the mood to play stranger games, and returned to the divan.  
  
"What do you want?" She said, fatigued.  
  
"May I come in?" The voice from outside the doorway asked.  
  
Jaina's brows knitted slightly. That voice was familiar. "Who is it?"  
  
The man stepped into the doorway. "Jagged Fel."  
  
Her heart stopped. There he stood, in all his glory, exactly the way she had last seen him. His hair, jet-black and slicked back in uniformed perfection, the thin white streak that grew from a scar above his right eyebrow, his pale emerald eyes that betrayed no emotion except hardship and maturity, everything was there. She longed to go up to him, to touch his face as if to see if he was truly there, but her body was frozen and refused to respond to her brain signals. Only her eyes moved, searching his face in awe and despair.  
  
He asked quietly, so not to startle her, "May I come in?"  
  
Jaina's heart began beating again. She managed a little nod, but her thoughts were light-years away to a time when she was still part of Rogue Squadron, back to the first time she ever met Jag Fel. It was during that reception on the Tafanda Bay, above Ithor, where the non-human politicians had accused him of xenophobia. He really put them in their place, she thought. Her respect for him soared after that, and despite the excited and nervous jitters she got when she first met him, they quickly dissipated and they became good friends. She managed to break through at least part of his grim armor; some days they would talk on the deepest philosophies of life, comparing their two very different cultures, while other days they'd converse like children on how great their starfighters were. Wartime was no time to start serious relationships, but they both enjoyed each other's company when they found time.  
  
But then Karlarba happened. It was a very personal blow to Jaina's health and pride, and even worse, she was unable to operate in Rogue Squadron until she regained her vision. She didn't even get to say goodbye to him before she was packed and sent off to Duros with her family, and even after her vision cleared, the New Republic suggested that her leave of absence remain indefinite. Because I was a Jedi. It was, of course, unfair, but it was the cold, hard fact that she could not change. Her whole perception was altered after that; the grimness Jag claimed she lacked when he first met her was there now.  
  
So for two years Jaina lost all contact with him. He was doing his duty in Rogue Squadron, and she was doing her duty to the galaxy, shuffling refugees and serving the Jedi on more worlds than she could remember. He didn't have the time to even find her, much less talk to her, and by the time she came back to Rogue Squadron with the Jedi Kyp Durron, he had been temporarily transferred to another Fighter Squadron near Coruscant. Their paths just missed each other; as he was transferred back to Rogue Squadron, she mysteriously took another leave of absence.  
  
"Jaina?"  
  
Jaina snapped back to reality. He was sitting beside her on the Hapan-silk divan, his pale eyes that usually betrayed no feeling full of hope and hesitation. Two years, and suddenly there he was.  
  
She met his gaze with cold, emotionless eyes. "What are you doing here?"  
  
His eyes flickered back to emptiness. "I have come to see how you are doing."  
  
She cocked an eyebrow. "Is that synonymous with reopening healing wounds?"  
  
He hesitated, as if unsure, and then spoke. "If that is how it feels, it might be," he said, with no defense in his voice. "But sometimes it is better to reopen a wound if is not healing properly."  
  
She studied his face for a moment, then stood and walked away from him. She leaned against the opposite wall, her profile facing him. "So let me get this straight," she said, letting a small amount of sarcastic confusion seep into her voice. "You traveled halfway across the galaxy to pick at a scab?"  
  
Jag stood and walked over to her. "No, I didn't come to pick at a scab. I came to see if you were alright."  
  
Jaina quickly shot him a glance full of anger he had never seen in her before, and it made him take a half a step back. "You never came to see if I was alright after Karlarba. What made you change your mind now?"  
  
"You left so quickly. I didn't see you in the sick bay there, and I couldn't take a leave of absence after you left."  
  
"But you can do so now? Gee, I wonder why. Oh wait, I know—what is your rank now? Major? Colonel? Are you a commander of your own squadron yet?"  
  
Jag's eyes filled suddenly with disbelief. This was not the Jaina he knew, not the same Jaina that helped him out of his personality that allowed no celebration. Her eyes were not brimmed with the unusual joy that was there, even though death and sadness surrounded her. Jaina's problems, Jag realized, went far deeper than he knew.  
  
"No, I'm not a commander. And you would've been right there with me through those promotions had you stayed."  
  
Jaina gaze met his evenly, and she nodded her head. "Yeah, had I stayed. That's a comforting thought; it's too bad I'll never get to know." Her eyes brightened artificially. "But it's nice to know that I would have gotten them. I guess almost as good as actually getting them."  
  
Jag was not angry towards her. Instead, sympathy filled his heart. "I'm sorry Jaina. I'm sorry you didn't get them, because I know you damn well deserved them."  
  
"I'm sorry too, Jag." Her voice was grim, and she pressed her lips together. "You know, I always sympathized for those non-humans that were rejected by the Empire. But this," she looked at her hands and clenched them into fists, "this is worse. This is worse, because not only are the Jedi rejected, but we are being rejected by the very power we are sworn to protect."  
  
Her voice lost its edge, and she suddenly could not bear to look into his eyes. "And I lost a brother in a mission to protect the New Republic. So not only did I fail in saving him, but the Jedi failed in protecting the New Republic. The Chief of State is dead, and the New Republic is falling apart." She snorted a sarcastic laugh. "Boy, I'm just one big walking failure."  
  
"Jaina, you are not a failure—"  
  
"Want to bet?" Her voice regained its edge, and she looked back into his eyes. "I failed the breaking of the Yuuzhan Vong. I failed to protect my youngest brother. Right now, I'm failing as a Jedi. And that third failure is a very dangerous one, Jag."  
  
Though Jag's eyes still betrayed no emotion, his whole body turned cold as he heard the venom in Jaina's voice. He tried to speak, but he could not think of a thing to say.  
  
She spoke first, her voice gentle again. "So I'll ask you again. What are you doing here?"  
  
Jag hesitated, then set his jaw. He looked her firmly in the eyes and took a step closer to her. "I came to see how you were. I made a stupid mistake when you were injured by not visiting you, and that cost me two years and one very dear relationship. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to help you then, but I'm sure now because I know how you feel."  
  
She narrowed her eyes. "How could you possibly know how I feel?"  
  
He bared his teeth slightly, and his voice hardened. "You know full well how I know, Jaina. I lost a brother and a sister in war, and I failed to save them just as you did. For years I blamed myself, and I sought revenge like any other person would."  
  
His eyes and voice softened, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Jaina, do what you must to avenge your brother's death. But deep down you know, like I did, that nothing you do can possibly bring him back, and killing others doesn't truly help the pain. There are other vents for frustration, and this is why I came halfway across the galaxy to find you: to tell you that I was so scared that I had lost you, and that you don't have to share this burden alone."  
  
He walked her back to the divan and sat down next to her. "Nothing is not going to cure the pain instantly. It is going to be a long time before you can let go, but please, don't be dangerous to yourself or the ones you love. It isn't worth it."  
  
Jaina shook her head. "I would never hurt someone I loved. Losing Anakin is hard enough." She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes becoming faintly glossy. "But I need to do my healing on my own. It may not be worth hurting people, but I won't let his death be in vain."  
  
Knowing there was nothing else he could say to change her mind, he nodded. "I will respect that."  
  
Jaina sighed, and looked down at her hands. "How did you find out?"  
  
Jag looked at her profile. "I was informed by my Uncle. Your father informed him."  
  
Jaina stared hard at her hands. "And how did you find me?"  
  
He blinked. "My Uncle is married to a NRI agent."  
  
Jaina quickly glanced up at him. "So you're using Intelligence to stalk me?" She was not joking.  
  
His face was kind, in a sad way. "It may appear to be that way, but I had only the best of intentions in mind."  
  
Jaina's eyes grew solemn. "You use New Republic Intelligence to find me, and then travel this far to get here. What for?"  
  
A doleful smile touched his lips. "Because you're worth it."  
  
Jaina's eyebrows knitted, but before she could speak, he continued. "You don't know what those two years meant to me. You impressed me from the start, Jaina Solo, and to lose someone like you is to be a fool. It took me two years to understand that, so the least I can do for you is to come this far to comfort you."  
  
Jaina gazed back down at her hands, but she could not find anything to say. All she could do was nod her head slightly, until suddenly Jag could see tears rolling down her face. He placed his hand on her back, and said softly, "I'm so sorry, Jaina."  
  
She could hold back her pain no longer, so she buried her face in her hands. She stifled her sobs, but as he pulled her closer to him, her cries for her younger brother grew more and more anguishing. He wrapped both arms around her tightly, and she buried her face into his neck and cried the way she hadn't allowed herself to since Anni died. She felt so frail in his arms; not nearly the strong, fit Jedi and pilot he remembered when she had last hugged him. He ran a hand through her hair, which was shorter than the last time he saw her. Hushing and rocking her softly quieted her cries, until she managed to catch her breath. She pulled away from him and let out a long sigh.  
  
He looked her in the eyes, and suddenly he realized in her appearance the toll wartime was taking on her. She was the same person, with the same features as he had last seen her, but her face was far paler than what was healthy, her eyes dark and burnt out from too many nights of extreme and intense concentration on too little sleep, and he didn't realize how much weight she had lost—her cheekbones were far more prominent, and it gave a hollow look of someone older than her nineteen years. He placed a hand on her cheek and wiped away a tear, his heart weary from her pain. She touched her hand to his, seeking comfort in his gentle touch, and closed her eyes.  
  
He leaned forward, kissed her forehead, and then pressed his own forehead to hers. Her pale brown eyes opened, and though brimming with tears, regarded him with a steady gaze. There was still some strength in her eyes, he noticed, but it was wrapped up tightly and tucked away. Jag realized that to heal, she would need to tap into some of that inner strength. Perhaps he could help her; it was, after all, the very least he could do for her.  
  
Still with his hand on her cheek, he stroked her soft skin with his thumb and whispered, "It is my duty to be strong for others, and know that I will always be strong for you."  
  
Her brow furrowed, and more tears filled her eyes. She ran a hand down his rough cheek, and spoke softly. "Jag…" Her lower lip trembled, and her brown eyes searched his emerald ones. He traced a finger over her lips to steady them and hushed her quietly, then, closing his eyes, gently pressed his lips to hers.  
  
At first Jaina was hesitant, bracing herself stiffly against him in automated reflex and not allowing herself to enjoy it. But soon, as if surrendering to the locked up emotions viscously awaiting a release, she finally let her thick mental armor slip away. He could feel it in the way she kissed—one moment she was tense, and a half heartbeat later, suddenly very vulnerable. She deepened the kiss slightly, afraid of his response, but he met her kiss equally. She felt almost desperate, as if clinging tightly to his lips slightly slowed the downward spiral that mirrored her life.  
  
But then she stopped, and pulled away. She looked into his eyes, her cheeks rosy from embarrassment and her expression one off loss and uncertainty. "I'm sorry, " she whispered. "I'm sorry."  
  
She moved away from him, but he left a hand on her arm. "What for?" he asked, in a non-threatening voice.  
  
Her gaze broke from his eyes. "I just…" she started, shaking her head slightly. "I can't do this."  
  
Jag moved his hand away from her arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."  
  
She looked back up at him. "No, it's not that. It's just that I, um…" She looked away sheepishly. "I haven't done this before. And now really isn't the time to start."  
  
His voice was quiet, and somewhat soothing. "Why not?"  
  
"Why not?" She looked at him, half-staring at him in disbelief. "We're in the middle of a war, Jag. Neither of us have the time or the energy to spare to start something."  
  
"Feelings can't be bound by time, Jaina." His face was gentle, understanding. "Especially in war, the chances of living to that perfect time are slim."  
  
Her eyes were still disbelieving. "We live in two very different worlds. What the Jedi ask of me, and what the military ask of you, it would tear us apart—physically and emotionally."  
  
"And what if you died tomorrow? You would never have had the opportunity to experience a feeling like this." He moved closer to her, still slightly hesitant. He did not want to pressure her, however, he did not want her to slip away as she had before, when he had been foolish enough to let her go. "You were the one who taught me to enjoy whatever I could, whenever I could, because you never know when it might be taken away from you."  
  
She was still staring at him, but this time it took her a moment to speak. "And what about who I am right now?" The shock in her eyes faded away, and was replaced by bitter anguish. "I'm not the same person I was when I was seventeen. And now, with Anakin gone…" She clenched her fists. "I don't want to hurt anyone I love, and I wouldn't want to subject you to the pain I'm feeling. That just isn't fair."  
  
"But I would like to help you." He took her hand and enfolded it into his own. "And I want to know how you've changed. I want to know what I've been missing."  
  
Her mouth was slightly open, attempting another argument, but she found she had none. Or, that she didn't really want one. 


End file.
